


Love Takes Time (And With You, I Hope It'll Never End)

by sweeterthankarma



Category: The Carrie Diaries
Genre: Fluff and Feels, M/M, mentions of period-typical homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 22:17:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17353643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweeterthankarma/pseuds/sweeterthankarma
Summary: Walt is new at this— being in love, that is— and Bennet is falling harder than he ever has before, harder than he ever thought he could, through the gorgeous process of watching Walt find himself right before his eyes.





	Love Takes Time (And With You, I Hope It'll Never End)

Walt doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the luxury that is kissing his boyfriend, Bennet Wilcox. 

(Okay, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get over Bennet, period, or the fact that Bennet is his boyfriend. He has a boyfriend. A  _ boyfriend.  _ Months after they made their relationship official and exclusive, he’s still giddy over it and thinks he might be forever, even when he’s ninety years old.)

It’s not that Maggie wasn’t a good kisser, because she was actually fine and even he can admit that, despite never really being turned on by her the way he is now, by Bennet. His boyfriend is entirely different in every positive way, and Walt melts a little more every time he even does so much as look his way. He’s his, soft but determined, patient and appeasable and downright adorable in everything he does, and it makes Walt swoon endlessly, all day and every night.

(How he ever thought he was straight is beyond him. Girls were fine, girls  _ are  _ fine, but this— this is living.)

Bennet is warm and kind and looks at Walt like he sees the world in him, and it’s more than he’d ever dreamt of. He didn’t know love could be like this. He didn’t know love  _ would  _ be like this, least of all for someone like him, a nobody from a small town in Connecticut.

Bennet makes him feel like somebody. Bennet makes him believe that he  _ is _ somebody. 

Bennet is soft and sweet but still daring when it comes to getting what he wants, and it just makes Walt yearn. Bennet is more experienced, obviously, and sometimes it scares Walt, but then he’ll go from kissing his neck to his nose, and the intensity diminishes as quickly as it came. Bennet never pressures, never pushes or asks for more than Walt ever can or is willing to give, and it’s refreshing — and  a bit rewarding too, after a lifetime of being boxed into an identity he could never embrace, even if he wanted to. 

(He’s not going to lie— sometimes he wants to. When he’s home, back in Castlebury, he’ll look at Carrie and Sebastian and Mouse and West and he’ll wish he could kiss his lover like they do, out in the open on a crowded street and never have to worry for even a second about what people around them might think or do in response.)

They spend every day in one of the most progressive cities in America and yet, they’re still not allowed to exist as freely as they want to, as freely as any other straight person would. They can’t hold hands in certain restaurants, they can’t even call each other “babe” in between fits of laughter when Walt gets whipped cream from his ice cream sundae on his nose, not without quick eyes analyzing their surroundings and checking for any bothered pedestrians with a makeshift weapon in hand, ready to use.

This kind of turmoil is new for Walt. He doesn’t wear his identity (and therefore his fear, too) like Bennet does: he shrugs it on like an old suit, passed down and filled with holes but adorned with newer floral patches too, as a way to make it his own and cover up the deprivation. Walt accepts it, knows that Bennet does too, mainly because they don’t have a choice, but sometimes Walt wonders if they could ever bring themselves to just throw out the suit entirely. He doesn’t know if it’d be worth it to do so.

Pretending to be straight is hard. Bennet doesn’t pretend, ever, and sometimes Walt envies him. Actually, most days he does. But then Sebastian will smile at him back in the halls of their school and Walt will remember how Sebastian knew the truth, could sense it before he had even really grasped it himself, and Walt wonders if he’s really pretending at all, if he ever was. 

The flamboyancy of the world they’re apart of, this struggling community that sometimes feels so distant, still jars Walt every now and then, but he’s trying to appreciate it. This is his culture, his bubble, and Bennet thrives it as a gay man; therefore he, as another gay man, feels like he should do the same. Still, when he and Bennet catch sight of the drag queens right before they arrive at the club, donning Slurpees and cigarettes from the nearest convenience store, Walt can’t help but wonder where they got the confidence to exist so fearlessly. Part of him envies them and how unabashedly multi-faceted they are— and a louder, more prudish voice in the back of his mind muses over how they’re just asking to get beat up.

(But then again, if that’s the case, so are he and Bennet.) 

When Bennet kisses him, though, Walt forgets all of this. He forgets about his parents’ judgment, he forgets about his homophobic cousins’ “jokes,” he forgets that he can’t even legally marry Bennet if he wanted to— not now, not ever in his lifetime, probably, since lawmakers and politicians seem to be more divisive than ever. He forgets about all of this, and he just lets Bennet touch him any way he likes, because he likes all of it too. If it’s Bennet, he’s turned on, and he’s repeated this statement to his love with equal parts humility and honesty. Bennet doesn’t find it weird at all. 

Still, he always checks in on him. He’ll purse his lips whenever they take a step closer to intimacy and he’ll bring a hand up to his cheek in the form of a caress that’s as soft as melted butter. He does this every time, just as Walt smiles instinctively,  _ every time.  _

    “Walt,” Bennet says today, repeating the same sentiment he always does. “You know you don’t have to do anything with me that you aren’t comfortable with. Not now, not ever.”

Walt keeps smiling. He’s always smiling around Bennet, he can’t stop himself.

    “I know,” he responds truthfully. “I’m not. I won’t. I really...I honestly just like whatever you do.”

Bennet grins back and sweeps him into another kiss, melting him from head to toe once more with...well, the entirety of his existence. (Sometimes he goes home and tries to write about Bennet, tries to find songs that do him justice, tries to create art of any kind that can show his love just how lovely he is, but nothing ever feels like it’s quite enough.) Walt is new at this— being in love, that is— and Bennet is falling harder than he ever has before, harder than he ever thought he could, through the gorgeous process of watching Walt find himself right before his eyes.

If Walt thinks the kissing is good, nothing can prepare him for how spectacular everything that comes after is. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr under the same username, sweeterthankarma.


End file.
